This mini-story is a surprise for my awesome beta, RivergronLover, because it's her birthday :)

This idea started as a one-shot but as I wrote it became longer than I had anticipated. I was going to post it all in one go but I was under time constraints to write this (since I wanted to get it posted for Emily's birthday) and didn't want to rush the ending and ruin it. So I've decided to split it up and it will most likely be posted in 4/5 parts and be around 10-15,000 words in total. Bear in mind it hasn't been read by my beta so sorry for any errors I didn't manage to catch.

For those of you who read my main story, 'What Happens In Florida', please don't worry I am still working on the next chapter of that as well and that will be posted in a couple of days!

Feel free to find me on tumblr where you can ask me questions or get updates. You can find me at:
pensieri23 dot tumblr dot com

Enjoy Part I of this mini-story and feel free to let me know your thoughts on it so far! :)

More Than You Bargained For

Part I
The Sexergency

Santana sighed loudly as she flopped down with a thud onto her bed, the partition around her 'bedroom' pulled back so she was clearly visible to her roommate.

"What's wrong now?" Kurt asked, his voice completely deadpan.

"God, Lady Hummel! You could at least try to sound like you give a shit!"

"Santana, that is the fourth dramatic sigh you've done in the last 5 minutes." He responded, not looking away from the television.

"So why the hell did it take you so long to ask then? And don't pretend you're too absorbed in America's Next Top Model because it's a load of crap."

Santana couldn't see Kurt's face but she knew he was rolling his eyes as he spoke, "It's research. I do work for vogue . com remember."

"How could I forget when it's all you talk about?! And you know what we should be talking about? Me."

Kurt turned around, "Fine. Let's get this over with, although I wish Rachel were here too to share my pain. What's wrong?"

"Finally!" Santana said, sitting up on her bed, "Do you know how long it's been since I've had sex?"

"Seriously, Santana?! Seriously? This is what you want to talk about?"

"Kurt, my sex life is important! It has been forever, like at least a month. I need your help!"

"My help? This is hardly an emergency."

"Yes, it is. It's the biggest kind of emergency there is! It's a sexergency!"

Kurt raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow, "You just made up that word. It's awful. Never use it again."

"Fine, but please help? I need a wingman."

"You want a gay man to help you find a hot girl?"

Santana nodded, "Exactly! You won't steal any potential hotties because you're gay! Not that anyone would pick you over me anyway..."

Kurt pursed his lips before replying, "I thought you were trying to convince me to help you, not convince me to throw something at you."

Santana met his gaze, attempting her best puppy dog eyes in the hope of emotionally blackmailing her friend, "Please?"

"Will it shut you up?"

Santana nodded gleefully, "Absolutely."

"Fine."

Santana sprang off her bed, "Yay! Let's go!"

Kurt looked surprised, "What?! Right now?"

"There's no time like the present, Lady Hummel. Let's hit up a gay bar!"

Kurt moaned, "Fine, but we're only staying for an hour."

"Two?"

Kurt narrowed his eyes, "One and a half but you buy all my drinks."

"Deal." Santana held out her hand, shaking Kurt's, "Let's find me a sexy lady!"

Santana ran ahead, practically skipping away from their apartment. As Kurt closed the huge sliding door, he pulled on his coat and shouted down the stairs to Santana, "Fine, but you better stay at her place because curtains will do nothing to drown out those noises and I would rather not be scarred for life."

Kurt tipped up his glass, finishing yet another drink. He held out the glass to Santana, "Refill."

Santana sighed dramatically, "How the hell am I supposed to find a hot girl when all I'm doing is being your freakin' waiter?"

"Fine, the drink can wait." Kurt responded, the glass in his hand clinking as he set it down against the marble surface of the table, "There's a girl just walking in who's very pretty."

Santana's eyes flickered to the door, she shrugged, "Nothing special."

"What? She's gorgeous!"

"Nah, she's average. Plus those shoes are hideous, that shade of brown looks like something nasty you'd find lurking on top of a pond. I thought you worked in fashion, I'm totally going to tell your boss."

"Santana, her shoes aren't brown. Who are you looking at? Over there, look." Kurt said, pointing, "The blonde."

Santana looked again, following Kurt's finger. Her eyes settled on a blonde girl, who she guessed was in her early twenties. Although the girl wasn't faced completely in their direction, Santana's angle was certainly good enough for her to ascertain that the blonde girl was very pretty, "She's definitely got potential. Let's get closer."

As they walked through the busy bar, Santana peered around people straining to get a better view. They were about 5 metres away from the bar where the blonde girl was stood when she turned around. Santana stopped immediately, causing Kurt to topple into the back of her, "A little warning would be good, Santana!"

"Kurt... She's..." Santana stuttered through her words, "Fuck."

Kurt was in shock. They had known each other for 5 years and Kurt couldn't recollect Santana ever being at a loss for words. Normally, she was full of smart, sassy comments and quick comebacks but it was like she had been rendered speechless. Kurt grinned, "I told you she was gorgeous."

The cogs in Santana's brain were working overtime. The girl was more than gorgeous, she was absolutely stunning. Everything about her seemed perfect, and Santana was completely and utterly intoxicated. As Santana looked at the girl more closely she found herself becoming fixated on her hazel eyes and she wished she was close enough to see every fleck of colour in them. In the light of the bar the flecks of green in the girl's eyes were mesmerisingly vibrant. Santana wondered what it was that made that shade of green quite possibly the best shade of green in the world. Because Santana was absolutely sure it was. It was as if all the other greens in the world would never be quite good enough ever again.

As she looked at the girl, stood just a few metres away, she felt her breathing change. She tried to speak to Kurt but the right words wouldn't come out and her legs felt like they were frozen to the spot. It was as though her lungs were freaking out, her brain had turned to mush and all the nerves connecting her body together weren't working properly. It was unlike any feeling she had ever experienced, and all she knew was that it felt amazing. Santana knew she had to talk to the girl. Leaving the bar without at least trying would be nothing short of unacceptable.

Santana took a deep breath, "I have to talk to that girl."

Kurt grinned, "Then talk to her. You're the most confident girl I know when it comes to flirting."

"Ok... Yeah... I can totally do this. Ok, Hummel. Come with me but don't intrude, stay a few seats away but close enough to listen in."

"I know, I know. We've run through how this works a million times." Kurt said, "You better get me a drink though."

Santana rolled her eyes and shoved $20 into Kurt's outstretched hand before walking towards the bar, "Stay close."

The girl was stood with two other girls, who were both pretty. Santana prayed that neither was her girlfriend. As she approached she realised her palms had begun to sweat. What the hell? I don't get freakin' sweaty palms. She wiped them frantically on herself and attempted to regain control of her shattered nerves. Suddenly she was stood in front of the girl and she realised she had no clue what to say.

The blonde noticed her and looked at her expectantly, with curiosity in those hazel eyes. "Hi," she said, her intonation clearly making her statement more of a question.

Oh my god, her voice is so ridiculously sexy. I didn't even know a voice could be that hot. Santana swallowed, "Erm, hi." Fucking hell, Lopez. Get your act together.

The blonde raised an eyebrow, causing Santana's stomach to lurch so far it felt like it had shot straight out of the atmosphere and was orbiting some far off planet in an unknown galaxy, "Can I help you with something?"

Her voice sounded playful, and the slight smirk on her face told Santana that the blonde knew exactly why she had come over. The fact that the girl wasn't just telling her to get lost gave Santana the boost of confidence she so desperately needed, "I'm Santana, I wondered if I could buy you a drink?"

The girl paused for a second, glancing at her two friends before responding, "You know, that sounds good. Thank you, Santana."

Santana smiled, "What can I get you? Oh and I didn't catch your name."

"Vodka and cranberry. And I didn't tell you it," the girl grinned playfully.

"I know that," Santana said, looking directly into the girl's eyes, "But if you don't tell me I'll be forced to make up a name for you."

"Oh, will you now?"

"Afraid so, Agatha."

The girl giggled, and that simple sound made Santana's heart feel like it had leapt through the roof, "Did you seriously just call me Agatha?"

Santana nodded and pulled her best serious face, "Yep. Let me get your drink then, Ags. Can't have you being thirsty now, can we?"

The blonde laughed, "You're cute. My name's Quinn."

Santana flashed a smile in Quinn's direction. She just called me cute! Hell yes! "Quinn? Ah well, it's no Agatha but it'll do."

Santana leaned over the bar, getting the attention of the guy serving. As she did she caught Kurt's eye, he winked at her and grinned. She ordered Quinn's drink, as well as one for herself and returned her attention to the blonde.

"Are you going to introduce me to your friends?" Santana asked.

Quinn glanced at them, one of them mouthing something at her that Santana couldn't make out, before smiling softly back at Santana, "This is Kate and this is Emily, but it doesn't really matter because they were just talking about going off to the dance floor."

"And you're not?" Santana asked, hope igniting within her.

"No. I, erm, figured I'd stay here. After all, this girl is buying me drinks so I'd be a fool to leave."

Santana's confidence soared again, "A fool because of the free drinks or a fool because the girl is kinda awesome?"

Quinn giggled, "Both. Although she's really very big headed. Anyway, are you going to introduce me to your friend? Oh, don't look so shocked, it's painfully obvious you're here with that guy over there. He keeps staring at us and I know it's not because he thinks we're hot since he is so obviously gay."

Quinn pointed in Kurt's direction and Santana looked over. Kurt was eyeing up the blonde quizzically, "That's my roommate Kurt. Give me a second, Agatha."

Santana wandered to where Kurt was sitting, "Thanks, wingman. I, erm, don't think I'll be requiring your services anymore. I am seriously hoping I am in luck."

"You sure? She's not a crazy serial killer?"

"Even if she is... I think I'd still screw her. I'll text you before I go anywhere, ok?"

Kurt nodded. He reached for his coat, but suddenly stopped. His gaze fixed on a point to the right he said, "Actually... I might stay here for a little while longer."

Santana followed his gaze, although she had a feeling she already knew the reason Kurt had suddenly decided to stay, "Let me guess. Ridiculously well gelled hair and a bow tie?"

Kurt grinned, "Of course."

"You guys really need to stop with the random casual sex and just get married already."

Kurt rolled his eyes, "Shush. We've only hooked up a few times."

"Whatever, have fun with Blaine." Santana smirked, returning to her seat next to Quinn.

One drink turned into four, and Santana wasn't quite sure where the time had gone. Talking to Quinn was easy. Santana had discovered that Quinn was an only child who had grown up in Ohio and then moved to New York for college. The thrill of living in a big city hadn't worn off by the time she'd graduated so she had stayed, finding an apartment that was vaguely affordable. She'd had no real plan and had started off working shitty hours at a bar to pay her rent while she focused on her dream, which was writing. It was her passion and she wanted to write novels, but since she needed actual money to live on she had been stuck working long hours for hardly any money. Eventually she had decided to apply for work at local newspapers, since at least that would be one step closer to her dream. After a lot of interviews, and doing a stack of unpaid work to boost her CV she had finally got a position writing book and film reviews for a newspaper. Ok, it wasn't her dream, but it was a step on the ladder and Quinn knew it was a good start. So she worked for the newspaper while she developed her own ideas for her books at home in her free time. Santana found herself being entranced by Quinn's every word. Normally when people told her their life stories she was just putting up with it so they could have sex, but with Quinn she found she was actually interested. She was even asking the blonde questions, intrigued to know more details.

As Quinn finished her fourth drink, Santana decided that she didn't just want Quinn... She needed her. It was completely unexplainable, but she knew it as well as her knew her own name. She needed Quinn. Santana could hold her alcohol, but while waiting with Kurt earlier she had drunk quite a bit. After all, she was an impatient person and when in bars she combatted that trait with alcohol. It always made the wait more interesting. Therefore, the gentle buzz of alcohol that was running through her meant that she was definitely not doing a good job of being subtle regarding her feelings for Quinn.

"This is going to sound completely crazy but you're fucking amazing. Seriously."

Quinn giggled, "I can't believe you just said that! You're not the playing it cool type, are you?"

Santana shrugged, "What's the point? Since I saw you I knew I wanted you." Oh my god, did I seriously say that? There's being forward and there's being absurd and I am not sure which side of that line I'm on right now.

"Wanted me? I'm not a car you can just buy, you know," Quinn said, grinning.

Fuck it, if I'm going to be forward I may as well do it properly. Santana moved forwards, closing the gap between them, "Quinn, there's something about you. I don't think I could stay away even if I wanted to."

"And do you want to? Stay away that is."

"No." Santana bit her bottom lip, her eyes fixed on Quinn's, "Fuck, no. I definitely do not want to stay away."

Quinn didn't break their eye contact, "Good, because I really don't want you to."

Santana leaned forwards, connecting her lips with Quinn's. She felt Quinn immediately respond and there was no doubt about either of their intentions. As their lips continued to collide, Santana could taste the vodka on Quinn's lips. They moved in perfect rhythm, as though each knew exactly what the other was thinking. Quinn's tongue darted out, wordlessly asking for entry. Santana obliged and the kiss deepened. Santana could feel herself losing control, this kiss was just too good and as far as she was concerned their current location was far too public. She forced herself to pull away and was met with a look of confusion from Quinn.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh god, nothing is wrong, but if we carry on I really don't think I'll be able to stop myself." Santana said, her breath somewhat jagged.

"Stop yourself from what?" Quinn whispered, her voice low and full of desire.

"Fucking you right here on this bar." Santana stated slowly, pronouncing every word perfectly and precisely.

Quinn gasped softly, her eyes widening slightly. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, "Would my kitchen counter do as an alternative?"

Santana leaned forward, gently brushing her lips against Quinn's. She smiled as the blonde released a soft moan, "That sounds perfect."

Santana woke the next morning, a grin seemingly attached to her face. She rolled over, anticipating that she would find Quinn lying there but was met with a cold space on the bed where she had been before. Suddenly Santana could hear the sound of running water and her disappointment slipped away as she realised Quinn had just switched on the shower. True to her word, when the two girls had reached Quinn's apartment, they had done all manner of unspeakable things on Quinn's kitchen counters. Santana wasn't sure if Quinn would ever be able to cook there again. Of course, the kitchen counters hadn't been the only location that had been abused. Santana began mentally constructing a list in her mind, adding 'Quinn's bed' and 'Quinn's floor' to it before she decided to get up and see if they could add 'Quinn's shower' to their list.

She walked across Quinn's apartment, ignoring the fact that she was completely naked, and headed towards the bathroom. She knocked gently on the door and within seconds Quinn had opened the door a crack and was peering out at Santana.

"Yes?" Quinn asked, suppressing a smile as she took in Santana's naked form.

"How big is your shower?" Santana said, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

Quinn bit her lip, "Big enough but I have to be at work soon."

"What time?"

Quinn glanced at the clock hung on the wall behind Santana, "I have a little time..."

Santana grinned as Quinn opened the door fully, "Glad to hear it."